by Joy Cowley
Dear friend, I wish I could inform you that we slept through that long train journey and woke refreshed, but that was not the case. Signal meant well, but he forgot to tell us that the train stopped at all stations. As soon as we settled down, we experienced unsettling jerks and clangs. The wheels slowed, screeching on the rails, and the wagon shuddered to a stop. Our door opened, some bags were taken out and other bags were brought inside. The humming bean who arranged the luggage wore heavy boots that rang unpleasantly on the metal floor. We were accustomed to the sounds of metal pipes in the old apartment building but this was much louder. Roger was the only one who slept through the station stops.
My whiskers twitched for the safety of my family. By chewing on the corner of one of the cartons, I discovered they contained cakes of rose soap, nothing edible, and each was heavy enough to stay in place during the bumps and jerks. But supposing these cartons needed to be unloaded at one of the stations? I fossicked about in the dark for an emergency hiding place and found it behind a large canvas bag of mail. If the worst happened, the guards might not see seven rats scuttling for cover. After all, the light was poor.
The worst, however, was not what I expected but something much more hazardous. This, dear friend, is what happened. Although I thought I would not sleep, I must have dozed, for I woke to cries from Retsina. “Alpha got off the train!”
“What?” I saw it was no longer night. Sunlight streamed through the open door, and the guard was lifting out two heavy leather bags. I looked at the ratlets. There were only three. “When?”
Retsina was crying. “Just now! Alpha was among the bags when the train stopped. The guard saw her. She ran out the door. Spinnaker, find her! Quickly!”
“Stay hidden!” I said, and then I raced past the guard and out the door, falling quite heavily onto the platform. I’m sure the guard didn’t see me, but the humming beans who were boarding the train did. They pointed their fingers and made loud noises. I ran alongside the carriages in a large station that had a glass roof. Morning sunshine flooded through, splashing heads and coat-skins and striking the rows of train windows. To one side was another platform with a green train pointed the opposite way. It would be easy to become confused and get back on the wrong train. Where had Alpha gone?
It is not easy to find a small rat among dozens of moving humming-bean feet. In fact, it was impossible. I ran the full length of the station, weaving between shoes, my whiskers twitching like grass in a gale. Why had she left the train? What direction had she taken? At any moment the train doors would close and I would lose the rest of my family. Oh, I assure you, I felt sick with fear. Then I saw her. She was leaping up the step of the carriage next to the engine. Yes, indeed, it was Alpha, my foolish, adventurous daughter. I ran after her, and horror, the whistle sounded and the doors began to close! All I could do was jump into the nearest carriage, several behind the one she had entered. I whisked my tail inside just in time. The door clamped shut behind me.
My vision was blocked by the large legs, but I was aware that something was happening in the carriage. It was only when the owner of the legs dropped a rectangular card on the floor that I realised the guards were looking at passengers’ tickets. It was time to move. I slid under the next seat before the owner’s eyes and hand made contact.
It occurred to me that the best way to get to Alpha’s carriage was under seats and past feet. Few creatures look down while they are talking to each other or staring out of windows. I moved stealthily down the row.
It had not occurred to me that Alpha would be trying to find her way back to the rear of the train. I suppose I should have guessed that my enterprising daughter would be returning to her family. From seat to seat I went, carefully choosing those moments when I was exposed, and about a third of the way along, I picked up her scent. I stopped, sniffed again. Yes, Alpha without doubt! Every good rat parent knows the scent of his or her offspring. But where was she?
Guided by my nose, I found the place where the smell was strongest, and I peered out between two trouser-skins. Here, there were seats facing each other, one occupied by a grown male and a young one, the other by a grown female and a sleeping infant. Next to the infant were some animal toys, and the smallest one was a grey rat. My Alpha was pretending to be a fluffy plaything. Oh, the clever ratlet! She had her eyes closed and was very still, but I could see from the prick of her ears that she was alert. I made a small squeak at a pitch above humming-bean hearing. Alpha’s eyes opened. She saw me and blinked in recognition, but did not lose her composure. Slowly, carefully, she slid away from a patchwork dog and crept under the end of the blanket covering the baby. From there, she dropped over the edge of the seat and ran behind the trouser legs. No one saw her. The big male was reading a newspaper and the female was talking to the young male. Clearly, they were a family.
“Papa!” Alpha whispered in my ear as she snuggled against me. “You were looking for me!”
I whispered back, “Why did you get off the train?”
“I had to, Papa. The guard with the luggage saw me. If I had come back, he would have followed me and found you all. The only thing to do was to jump out and get back in another carriage. Oh Papa, let’s go back to the luggage wagon.”
“We can’t. There’s no door between the carriages and the luggage.” Then I told her of a plan I had evolved. It had some risk, but could work. We would make our way to the last carriage in the train and wait under the seat nearest the door. When the train stopped at the next station, we would get out of the carriage quickly, before the porter came with the luggage cart, and then scurry into the back wagon.
She flicked her tail. “Good idea, Papa. Let’s go.”
We worked our way back under the seats, pausing at the end until someone opened the doors between carriages. The train was travelling fast, rocking from side to side, and people going through to the little poo and pee rooms were so busy finding balance that they did not notice two rats behind them. Going almost the full length of the train took a long time and I was concerned that we would stop at a station before we arrived at the last carriage.
As planned, we waited under the last seat in the final carriage. We leapt down the steps and onto the platform of a new station. Someone saw us. There was the old ratophobic cry, “Rats! Vermin!” But we didn’t hesitate. Alpha ran ahead of me to the steps of the luggage wagon. The door was wide open, and the humming bean with boots had not yet arrived. I followed and moments later we were behind the soap boxes, reunited with family.
Ah, what a joyful occasion! Retsina had greatly feared that she’d lost both husband and child, and she sobbed against me, soaking my fur. I hugged her. “Beloved wife, you should know I could never leave you,” I said, trying to comfort her.
Jolly old Roger lifted his head. “I told her you’d be all right.”
Retsina turned and hissed, “You said Spinnaker was gone for good.”
Roger put up a paw. “I was merely considering all options,” he said calmly.
With the delight of being together again, I had not noticed that all the suitcases had been taken off, and none put in. The train had been at the station for an unusually long time. Big feet clanged across the metal floor and two cartons of soap were lifted. My whiskers twitched. All the contents of the wagon were being unloaded!
“Where are we?” I asked.
Retsina sat up on her hind legs and peered around the edge of the cartons. “I don’t know. I think all the humming beans may have got off.”
It was Gamma who scrambled up a sheer wall of cardboard to see over the stack of boxes. “I see water,” he said. “In the distance! Blue water!”
I looked at Retsina. “Do you think we’re at Sunsweep?”
Before she could answer, the guard came back and lifted two more cartons. Now there was no doubt in my mind. We had to get off. I said to the ratlets, “This is as far as the train goes. The next time the guard comes in, we wait until he goes out, carrying the boxes, and we follow him. As he st
eps down to the platform, we come down behind him and run away from the train. Retsina, Roger, you lead the way. I will go last, should we be discovered and pursued.”
“And if they catch you?” Retsina was worried.
I smiled. “My dear, I don’t fancy the taste of humming bean, but if necessary, I will bite.”
I was so confident that the guard would be too busy to see us that I failed to notice the twitch of my whiskers. The heavy-footed humming bean grabbed another two cartons and turned towards the door. We slid out of hiding, Retsina first, Roger behind her, the four ratlets, and me at the back. The big boots went down the steps to a half-filled cart that stood on the platform. A line of grey fur slid down after him and turned sharply left. I followed, but the guard saw me. One of those heavy boots came down on my tail and I was caught! My claws scrabbled uselessly on the concrete as I watched the gap between me and my family widen.
The guard roared something and bent over. I struggled but his boot was crushing my tail and the pain was most unpleasant. I could do nothing to save myself.
I saw his hand come down. He was reaching for my head. The shadow of that broad palm and wide fingers came over me with the promise of death, and I struggled again. Then I sank my teeth into his thumb and held on.
He howled and tried to shake me off his hand. But his boot was still on my tail and every movement sent great pain through me. At last, he lifted his foot, gave a final shake of his fist and I fell back on the concrete. His boot rose up to crush me, but I was away like the wind, dragging my poor injured tail behind me.
Retsina and the others were waiting in the tall weeds at the end of the platform. I didn’t want to alarm my family, so I tried to make light of the incident, saying that the guard’s thumb tasted like mouldy cheese—although, to tell the truth, my tail was so sore that all I wanted to do was go away by myself and howl like a baby ratlet.
My fine tail was broken, dear friend. I knew it. I would have a lump near the end of my caudal appendage, and forever I would be known as Spinnaker the Ship rat with the crooked tail.
CHAPTER FOUR
OUR ATTEMPT TO CROSS SUNSWEEP LAKE
Gamma said he knew the direction of the lake. He had seen flat blue water through the door of the luggage wagon. He led us through the high weeds, jumping every now and then to check his bearings. He made sure that we walked around the outskirts of the town and not through it.
Because I had convinced my wife that my experience with the train guard’s boot was trivial, she concerned herself with keeping the family together. If the truth be known, I could have used a little sympathy for my poor tail. It dragged behind, reminding me of my injury every time it encountered a small obstacle such as a dandelion bush or a dried twig. Roger walked beside me, full of cheerful talk.
“That’s the worst part of the journey over, Spinny, me lad.”
I did not respond to his prattle, and I wished he would move away. I lifted my tail over the roots of willow trees, and in a mood of blackness, I hoped that the luggage guard would get a thousand flea bites on the most tender parts of his body.
Roger went on: “After that train ride, a trip across the lake will be a piece of cheese.”
Alpha turned. “You’re forgetting about the giant eels, Uncle Roger.”
Jolly Roger snorted. “Pirate rats eat eels for breakfast.”
My tail may have been sore, but my nose was in excellent working order, and I sniffed the weeds and long grass for any sign of hidden cat. In several places I noted old dog pee and some mouse droppings, but there was no cat odour, and no nasty surprises. Past the willow trees, the earth smell suggested dampness, and I knew we were somewhere near the shore of the lake.
It was Alpha who had been given the memory task for Sunsweep Lake, and she, too, was sniffing the earth. “Don’t go near the water,” she said to her brothers and sister. She glanced back at Roger. “These eels eat rats for breakfast.”
We came to a clearing that was some kind of humming-bean camp on the shore of the lake. Through the last grass stalks we saw two houses on wheels and a small fabric house pinned to the earth with poles and ropes. There were no humming beans to be seen, but some of their coloured skins were hanging on a line between the two houses on wheels. The lake was as Delta had described it, calm and bright blue, with a shore on the other side at a distance of one city street—not far at all. If the water was full of rat-eating giant eels, they were well hidden below the smooth surface.
Alpha stepped out into the clearing and at once there was the shrill loudness of a barking dog. She jumped back into the grass. This was the worst kind of dog: a terrier that specialised in the extermination of rats and rabbits. But the noise stayed at the same distance, and when I put out my head to investigate, I saw a sharp-faced terrier jumping up and down on a rope fastened to a wooden kennel. The animal was tied and couldn’t reach us. We were in no danger.
We all came out to the shore of damp earth and grass that had been given a haircut. From our shadows, I estimated middle day. The sun overhead gleamed on the water and the air was still. Further along our side of the lake was a small colony of houses on wheels and a wooden jetty that looked as though a road had waded into the water and stopped, perhaps afraid of the eels. I suggested this to Alpha but she merely said, “Oh Papa, you’ve become very fanciful in your old age.” I realised then that my ratlets were growing up and could no longer relate to my funny baby rat stories. That fact, together with the pain in my tail and the barking dog, made me rather sad.
I was in a melancholy daydream and didn’t notice that Beta had gone to the water’s edge. She was thirsty, and as she bent to put her nose into the water, Alpha and Retsina shrieked. On the water in front of Beta there appeared a V-shaped ripple. She didn’t see it, but I did. I sprang forward, a great leap, grabbed Beta’s tail between my teeth and yanked her away from the lake’s edge. As I did so, a head broke the surface. I swear to you, my friend, that head was bigger than the head of a mature humming bean. It was shining greenish-black with pale, round eyes, a wide-open mouth and sharp teeth that sloped back into its mouth. The mouth snapped shut where Beta’s head had been. There was a great splashing in the shallows as a dark body as long and thick as a tree trunk turned in a semicircle. The tail scraped the bottom, stirring up mud, then the giant eel headed back to the depths.
Beta was shaking all over and squeaking with every breath. Poor little ratlet! No doubt, I was not the only one who now had a sore tail, but I had snatched her from certain death.
Retsina and Delta comforted Beta. Alpha said, “I told you not to go near the water!” Her voice was severe because she was also in shock. It had all been so sudden.
Delta informed us, “We shouldn’t be surprised that it almost came ashore. In wet weather, eels can travel over land from—”
“Stop! Stop!” Roger put his front paws over his ears. His mouth was drawn back from his teeth and his eyes were closed. “That’s enough! There’s no way you’ll get me over that lake. If you want to be eel bait, that’s your business. I’m setting sail for Sunsweep town and a cosy nest at the back of a tavern. Bye, shipmates! It’s been nice knowing you.”
He wasn’t bluffing. He was leaving us. He ran towards the long grass and, without so much as a word or wave of his tail, he disappeared. I was surprised, but without regret. The journey to Ratenburg would be much easier without Roger.
Delta looked thoughtful. “He had a point, Papa. How do we get across that lake? Are we capable of building an eel-proof boat?”
We were quiet for a while, all except Beta, who was still making an occasional sobbing hiccup, and the crazy dog that leapt on the end of its rope. “I’ll get you!” it was barking. “I’ll bite your heads off and spit out your brains!”
I ignored it. In my opinion, even pedigree terriers are ill bred. My concern was the giant eels. In good conditions, rats are capable swimmers, but none of us would last ten seconds in that water. A boat was needed. But what boat?
Alpha sat beside me. “Papa, the lake is my responsibility. Remember? I’m going over there.” She pointed her nose at the camping place. “I’ll find a boat for us.”
“Sweetheart, what would six rats do with a humming-bean boat?”
“I didn’t mean that kind of boat,” she said. “Something that will float. You know, like a big balloon.”
“Eels have sharp teeth,” I reminded her.
She patted me on the back. “I know that, Papa. I’ll return soon.”
I called after her, “Don’t go near the dog!”
Retsina and I watched Alpha run through the shadows to the houses on wheels. We knew that our daughter had much good sense, but she was also the one who took risks and we didn’t like the way the terrier’s barking changed to a coaxing growl. The dog was daring her to come closer.
After a while, Beta recovered from her frightening experience. I saw the marks made by my teeth on her tail, but at least her tail was still straight and not broken like mine. She did not mention the hurt. “Thank you, Papa,” she said.
Retsina also sat next to me. “Spinnaker, I’m anxious. Do you think Roger had the right idea? Consider our ratlets! Surely a nest in the town is safer than attempting to cross that water.”
“Darling wife, it’s you who has always had the dream of living in Ratenburg.”
She nodded. “I know. I’ve heard about it ever since I was a tiny ratlet, but I never imagined it would be so difficult to go there.”
“What if it wasn’t difficult? Think about that! If the way to Ratenburg was easy, that perfect city would be overrun with rats. Everyone would go there! Because the way is difficult, only the strong and intelligent—like us—can survive the journey.”
My dear wife still looked worried. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Look, my dear, look at my whiskers! Are they twitching? No! That means we’ll get safely across the lake.”
